With a Sinking Heart
by sparkles321
Summary: "Frank," Joe shouted again, desperate. Waves of icy water washed over him, and he knew he had to jump. Was Frank in a life boat? Trapped in steerage? The boat was already shifting. Joe gripped the rail a few seconds longer, then jumped. He heard screaming and realized it was coming from his own mouth. He hit the water and groped frantically for something, anything...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello lovely sparklers! Whether you're new to the Hardys in History group or have been following since Hardys At War, I'm so glad you're here! Reviews are always welcome. ****Wait on the Lord, be of good courage, and He shall strengthen thy heart. Psalms 27:14**

**IMPORTANT! This is going to be as historically accurate as possible - unfortunately James Cameron's film was pretty unrealistic. Keeping it real. :D**

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**April 10, 1912. Southampton, England.**

Joe Hardy's pen paused over the yellow telegraph form. "What was I supposed to put?"

Frank,his older brother, blew out his breath in exasperation. "Had wonderful time in Europe. STOP. Taking case as ship detectives for Dad's friend on Titanic with White Star Line STOP Leaving Southampton today. Love to all. STOP."

"Well, all the stops get confusing. And I feel like we should tell mother and Aunty not to worry."Joe said, scrawling the words and handing them to an operator.

Together they left the telegraph office and began walking down the street.

Frank said, "They'll have read in the papers about our ship. Experts say she's unsinkable. After all,she's the biggest ship on the seas, and with those new watertight compartments-"

Joe rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. Once you start describing it you can't stop. I don't care what it looks like or how big it is- I just hope there's something mysterious on it. With all the rich people traveling on it, there's sure to be lots of jewels that could go missing..."

He waved their first class tickets around and wiggled his fingers expressively. "Or maybe a sordid past will come to light- how someone _really _made their fortune..."

Frank snatched the tickets away and put them in his pocket safely. "Stop clowning about, Joe. Mr. Jacobson only hired us because he had to put down he had ship's detectives, and he couldn't find anyone else. He told us that he doesn't expect anything to happen. It's only four days."

Joe muttered something.

Hoping to redirect him, Frank said,"I'm sure we'll have fun. First class on the White Star Line is said to be the best in the world. There's a swimming pool, squash court, exercise room, and more. And there's many famous people traveling - the Astors, Isodore Straus (he owns Macy's) and Dorothy Gibson, the moving pictures star."

"Guess you're right," Joe said.

A clock on the corner struck the hour, and Frank realized they'd better hurry. They walked briskly to the dock and got in the first class line.

On board, they strolled the decks, enjoying the view of London and Southampton.

"We're setting sail," Joe yelled, waving his handkerchief at the crowds cheering. "Just think, we're making history. The biggest liner to ever sail!"

"Who are you waving at?"

"Does it matter? Goodbye!"

Someone handed Frank a streamer, rolled up. "Toss it to the crowd, but hold one end."

"What?"

"See," Joe explained."Now that pretty girl has one end, and you have the other. You hang on as long as you can, and let go when we're too far out."

The ship stopped moving.

"Why aren't we going?", Joe craned his neck to see.

"We nearly collided with that other ship! My, but it's a bad omen," a loud middle aged woman next to him announced to all. "My sister in law read a book called _Futility_. A ship called the Titan sank. Sank to a watery grave! Don't play with fate. I tell you, it's a sin to call a ship unsinkable. God will do what He pleases-"

She was still rambling as the boys left to explore the interior.

"I suppose there's Aunt Gertrudes everywhere," Frank laughed as they set off.

Attendants had placed their luggage in their sumptuous suites.

"Man, this place is like the Ritz," Joe whistled as he took in the gilt bathtub, ornate furnishings, and lush carpets.

"It's modelled after the Ritz- Carlton hotel's suites."

"Well lah de dah, aren't we fancy!"

Then Joe leapt on the bed. "I want this one."

"They're the same size, you know."

"This one's closer to the porthole. Look, Southampton' s getting smaller. Farewell, Europe."

They toured a cafe that looked like a replica of the ones they had visited in Paris, peeked in a huge library, and visited the gymnasium. When they had seen all the first class deck had to offer, they visited the second class desk, slightly planner but just as good as first class on any other.

"Well, two hours and we've seen it all! I could get used to being a ship detective. Bow we feast! That cafe had some puff pastry-"

"No, Joe. We haven't gone down there."

"Steerage? C'mon, Frank. I'm sure it's nicer here than steerage on other ships, but you know what Aunt Gertrude says about foreigners..."

"Joe, since when did you listen to Aunty?"

"Fine!I'll come."

The staircase ended at an abrupt, locked gate. A young officer was managing it.

"Sorry, fellows, " he said apologetically. "We can't let first and second down there unless you've good reason."

Joe turned, but Frank stopped him."Actually, we do. We've been hired as ship's detectives for this voyage, and we'd like to know our way around the whole ship."

"Alright! Name's Will, yell if you need anything." He opened the gate and pointed to a clean, stark hall. "At the end of that's their exercise area -an open deck. Rooms are down that hall, and the cafeteria is in there. I tell you, it's really quite nice. It always made me feel kinda sick to see steerage in other ships, but here it's very tidy."

Frank ventured down the hall and Joe had no choice but to follow.


	2. Chapter 2

**background info - in 1912, Italy and Turkey were fighting constantly, much like of the nation's in today's middle east. This set the stage for a few of World War One (1914-1918) events. Turkey has had many different names, but for easier reading I'm calling it by our modern name.**

Frank rushed down halls, inspecting everything.

"Frank, why? There's loads of other things to look at. Take the boiler room. Doesn't that sound exciting?" Joe shook the list of places at his brother.

"There could be something important down here, you never-"

He was cut short by a man rudely and deliberately bumping into him.

"Hey, watch it," Joe cried, "Why did you ram into my brother?"

"Sorry, my English no good," the man said in a thick accent.

He passed them, giving them and their detective badges a keen glance that made them both uneasy.

"I don't like that, Frank."

"Me either, but why? I mean, there's nothing sinister in that he just bumped into me! It seemed deliberate, but surely not. We don't know him, and he doesn't know us."

They stopped at a large deck, families wandering about.

"The first and second class people know who we are, why not offer our services here?"

"So that's what your up to! Frank, we're here to find items of actual value if they go missing, or comfort senile old ladies. We don't need to help-"

"Joe! Since when have you been so high and mighty?"

"I'm not! I just think we won't have any real cases here."

"Fine. It's worth a try. Between the two of us, we can translate this into several languages."

Within five minutes, Joe was standing on a table.

"Good afternoon, everyone! If you have any trouble on this trip, just let my brother and I know. We will be your ship's detectives for the remainder of your stay."

He repeated it in several different languages and hopped down.

"Well? Frank, didn't I sound official?"

"As official as a sixteen year old can be. Come on."

"I thought you liked it down here, and now you want to leave? Listen to that music. It's hopping."

"I didn't say we had to embrace all their customs, just offer our services."

"Now who's snobby? Don't be so scared. They don't bite."

A little but enthusiastic group of motley musicians was playing a lively tune. Joe saw Irish,German,Italian, Turkish, and Scandinavian immigrants, as well as a few lower class English and Americans. He had no clue where the rest of the group came from, but it was certainly a melting pot.

He was tapping his toes when he heard a voice behind him.

"Mr. Hardy?"

He turned and saw a beautiful girl with olive skin and hazel eyes. A younger girl stood beside her.

"Call me Joe. Can I help you with something?"

Her English was lightly accented. "Yes, please do help. Oh, I speak English, do not worry."

"Alright. What do you need?"

To his surprise, her eyes filled with tears. "Bad men are after Fatima and I. They kill our friends, family, now they want it from us..."

He shifted a foot. He always got uncomfortable when women cried. Where was Frank?

"Look, it's okay. Here, wipe your eyes. What's your name?"

"Elea."

"Ee-LAY-uh. Where are you from?"

"Turkey. I had better start at the beginning. Fatima, run and play with your new friends."

The little girl, who appeared six or seven, was apparently not as talkative as her sister. She shrank back, still clutching Elea's hand.

"The little boy and girl with the jacks, you do not remember? See, they are waiting for you. Go!"

The younger girl ran off and Elea turned back to Joe.

"Now I tell. Italy does not like Turkey. They fight us to get land. My father was very wealthy. He owned large amounts of land in Turkey, and had much gold and jewelry. Old, fine family. He could afford tutors for my sister and I(I learn English from tutor), and silk shawls for my mother."

"What does this have to do with people being after you?"

"Most Turks are not Christian. My family is one of the few old, wealthy Christian families, and the Turk rebels hate us. They needed money to fight, and my father would not give it to them. Italians hate us too, simply because we are Turkish.

So when my father learns the rebels will attack, he sees my mother's jewels and his important papers into my coat lining. My parents prepare for our family to get away. But the rebels came early..."

Elea rubbed her hand subconsciously, and Joe noticed a jagged scar running down her palm.

She continued her story.

"One of the rebels came into my room. Fatima was reading with me. I fought him away, and we hid."

Her voice dropped.

"I couldn't save my parents... but Fatima and I escaped. We went to our Aunt in England, but she became ill. We're going to America to start a new life, but I must confess I'm scared."

He put his hand over hers. It was an awfully forward thing to do, he thought instantly, but the comforted smile she gave him made it all right.

"So, the rebels want your father's papers?"

"For some reason. I can't figure out what's so important in them. Oh, and they want -this-"

Joe's eyes nearly popped as she opened the clenched fist of her other hand to reveal an enormous necklace set with various gemstones.

"To finance their rebel group?"

"Yes. I have several more gems in my bag, but I'm afraid they are no longer safe. I carry some with me at all times. Joe, I believe some of the rebels are on this ship."

She started to cry again.

Joe finally saw Frank and waved him over. In hushed tones he repeated the story.

"Joe, do you think that man who bumped into me was a rebel?"

"I don't know! Listen, we'd better get back up to our class. It's nearly dinnertime, and we have places at the captain's table."

It was too bad neither brother saw the murderous glance a swarthy man gave them as they left steerage.


End file.
